


The name's Lestrade, Greg Lestrade.

by EmImagines



Category: James Bond! AU, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, bond!AU - Fandom
Genre: Bond!AU, Espionage, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Sherlock Holmes/ James Bond crossover, Violence, spy's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:32:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11737116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmImagines/pseuds/EmImagines





	1. Chapter 1

Greg never liked parties, yet, was always at one. Either because he was asked to or was part of a job he was on. 

He stood quietly observing all the elaborately dressed guests, he too was suiting a black tux with an ice white shirt. That was the only part of parties he liked, wearing some of his favourite suits to them. 

He moved away from the wall he was leaning against and made his way through the people who lined the hallway and found himself in the kitchen. 

That's where he found the person that he had known for a few years and would eventually change his life forever. Turn his world upside town and revolutionise him in ways he didn't think was possible. 

He just didn't know you were going to do that... _yet._

Your eyes met with his and they tightened ever so slightly before you decided to walk up to him and make yourself known. "Do you usually gawk at people in kitchens or am I an exception agent 007?" You sarcastically asked and flashed a smile. 

Greg kept his cool and collected demeanour "Only when the person I'm gawking at is as attractive as you." 

"Don't let my fiancée here you say that, Mr Lestrade. Mycroft is your boss after all..." You leaned over the kitchen island and Greg glanced around him, noticing the few people that were scattered around the kitchen had dispersed. You caught on to what he was looking around at "We're alone..." Your voice lowered to a dangerous point. 

"What attracted you to your fiancée?" Greg asked out of the blue and watched as you stood up straight, smoothing out the invisible lines on your black silk dress, pondering over the question for longer that he would have expected so he elaborated slightly "Money? Lust?"

"Information." You said in a joking tone but you were speaking the truth. 

"With the amount you can get from him you must really love him..." Greg asked, he noticed you rolling your eyes and chortling. 

Your laughter stopped when you caught sight of your tall, smartly dressed fiancée who was standing around a group of men, talking in code. Your gaze was burning into Mycroft's back and Greg kept glancing between you and his boss "Love? My fiancée? God no! I hate him with a burning passion. Every fibre in my body contorts with rage at the mention of his name." Your tone was bitter and cold, showing no emotion or remorse whilst your eyes remained firmly on the man who was now walking towards the both of you. 

Greg watched as a fake smile graced your face and you kissed the cheeks of your fiancée and placed a 'loving' hand on his chest "Hello Gregory, glad you could make it," Mycroft Holmes stuck out his hand and Greg shook it. 

"Thank you for inviting me, Sir," Greg pulled away his hand and his eyes drifted back to you once again. 

"Well you are Britain's best spy," he lightly chuckled "What were you two talking about just then?" Mycroft asked, snaking an arm around your waist. 

"We were just discussing what we have in common!" You lied with a wide grin and he raised a brow. 

"Oh and what things may the be?"

"We both love martinis that are shaken and not stirred..." Greg was taken aback, he didn't tell you that and thought of when he might have as you continued talking "Which, by the way, I'd _kill_ for! Be a darling Mycroft and get me one." You purred and Mycroft let out a breathy, low groan at your tone. 

"We have a multitude of people that can get you one," It sounded as if Mycroft was complaining. 

You pouted your lips and played with Mycroft's bow tie "I know, but I want _you_ to get me it."

Greg watched Mycroft cave in and go and fetch you one "Do you want one too Lestrade?" Greg politely refused before Mycroft left to get you your drink. 

"How did you know?" Greg asked, still baffled by how you knew his favourite drink down to a T. 

You nonchalantly shrugged "Why wouldn't I?" You playfully smirked and Greg's grip on the kitchen island tightened. 

Mycroft came back with a drink and hand and gave you it as you thanked him "Do excuse us Gregory, I've barely seen this little minx all night and she promised me a dance," he growled as he pulled you closer to the suit he was wearing, it wasn't as nice as Greg's.

"Did I?" You asked with a false flirtatious smile "I don't recall..."

"Don't be such a tease," Mycroft whined "I'll speak to you later, Gregory..." Mycroft began to pull you away. 

"Bye Greg," you purred "Love the tux," you waved at him and Greg had to shake himself out of the pit of newfound feelings he felt. 

He watched intently, analysing every move, calculating every step and burnt his eyes in to your swaying hips. He studied your actions towards Mycroft, you draped your arms over him and gave him all the attention he could possibly desire. Mycroft Holmes certainly demanded attention and craved it more than the average person. 

_'Perhaps that's why he's so oblivious to Y/N's fake smiles and passionless kisses...'_ Greg thought to himself. 

He was so deep in thought he barely noticed you walking away from Mycroft to fetch another drink. Mycroft took that opportunity to talk to Greg "Recent intelligence information sources say MI6 is about to be hacked into..." 

"I've got it under control, Sir" Greg reassured. 

Mycroft raised a brow "For your sake I hope so, we'll discuss this at a later date. Go and enjoy yourself". Greg nodded and wandered off, finding you with an arm over the staircase railing looking rather bored as party guests started to leave. 

"You never told me why you hate your fiancée..." Greg trailed off. 

You looked down at him with a quirked brow and a small smirk "I find it rather interesting that you choose to comment on that and not comment on how I know your favourite drink". 

"That's easy," Greg quickly replied "Mycroft could have told you." 

"He didn't, and you didn't tell me either" you retorted and stood up straight "Your car is here by the way..." Greg glanced out of the window while your eyes remained firmly on him "And I'm just itching to take his dress off." Greg couldn't help but gulp at the tone you used and the fact that he was now picturing you slowly slipping that dress off and having the material gather at your ankles. "Goodnight Mr Lestrade, I'm sure we'll see each other soon" you broke him away from his thoughts before retreating up the stairs with a coy smile.


	2. Chapter 2

"My flight landed in Monaco, Mycroft. I'll keep you updated" Greg silently thanked a private chauffeur as he handed him his luggage outside a hotel. 

"Alright, I'll also keep you posted, Lestrade. I've had reports telling me that our suspect has been seen around Monte Carlo the past few days. Surveillance footage shows he hasn't boarded a flight and hasn't got a train to leave the vicinity." Mycroft played with a pen between his fingers while on the phone, staring at a photo of him and you. 

"Okay Mycroft I'll-"

Mycroft cut Greg off "Y/N's in France, Paris to be exact. She's shopping." 

"Well I-"

"She says she's shopping for a wedding dress..." Mycroft said as if it was nothing. He could hear Greg let out a small huff under his breath. 

The spy tossed down his bags into the hotel room overlooking the sea "I have to go Mycroft, but I'll keep you posted". Greg hung up and tossed his phone on the bed before tossing himself on it. As a friend, he knew he should have told Mycroft what you said to him the other week at the party wearing that dastardly dress that had distracted him since then. 

Then again, Greg didn't have friends, he had allies. 

His phone buzzed with a text of a picture, it was the man he was looking for at the underground subway dressed in a sharp suit. Greg quickly rushed down to the station under the streets of Monaco finding himself on a platform with the suspect and three other people scattered about in the middle. Greg discreetly kept his attention on the smartly dressed suspect before a rush of cool air swept though the tunnel as the subway car approached the platform. Most people got off and Greg mirrored the suspects movements as he got into the train at the same time as him, a woman who was also standing on the platform got on the car too. 

The doors shut and Greg stood, holding onto the bar above him. His eyes glancing to the man who was seated with his head in a paper. The sub stopped at the next stop and everyone-apart from Greg, the man and the woman who had got on with them-left. 

"Well," the man spoke up, still reading the paper "Which one of us is going to shoot first?" 

As soon as the man finished talking he swerved off the seat and crouched down behind the plastic chair as did Greg and the woman he had saw. He narrowed his eyes when he saw a flash of hair that was a different colour... _a wig_. 

Then it started to sink in that you had that hair colour and Greg started to see the recognisable outline of your face. 

It was you. 

Greg lost all focus. Did Mycroft know you were here? More importantly _why_ where you here? 

"Y/N?!" He called out and started shooting back at the man "What the bloody hell-" he was cut off when the sub jolted and the three of you were tossed around. You glanced up and noticed a bullet hole in the metal, directly aiming for the subway drivers head. You watched as the man smirked and opened the doors, jumping off at the third last station. 

"We have to get off, now!" You screamed and pulled Greg up who was still bewildered. 

The sub began to speed up and you let out a annoyed growl passing the second last station "We're going to have to jump..." You told him grabbing his hand so tight it was turning it bright white. "There's a station coming up in five...four..."

Greg went wide eyed "Wha-" 

"Three...two...jump!" You screamed and dragged Greg out with you, crashing against the cold tiles. You let out a pained groan and clutched on to your now bruising arms. You readjusted your wig and cursed at Greg under your breath who was still lying down coughing up a lung by the sounds of things. You dragged him behind a pillar and used it to protect both of you from the blast of the crashing subway car. 

You noticed him drifting in and out of consciousness. Pressing your fingers against the side of his throat, you checked for his pulse before deciding that he'd be alright on his own when he eventually came to. 

Half and hour later Greg woke up hearing sirens, a paramedic asked him in French if he was alright but he stood up and waved them off. He needed to find you and he needed answers. 

He cleaned himself up back at the hotel before walking along the seafront with every intention of finding you. 

He saw you sitting at a cafe, looking completely unscathed, being served a glass of wine by the coast just as the sea began to drag the sun towards it. Greg stormed over and you quickly grabbed onto his forearm before he could grab your wrist "Don't touch me. Sit down at the table behind me if you want to talk," you ordered and Greg raised a brow at you and that slightly unconvincing wig, before slowly sitting down in the chair behind you and facing his back to yours. 

"Why are you here?" He asked in a quiet, snappish tone. 

You avoided his question and lit a cigarette "Do you want a drink?" 

"Y/N..." He warned. 

"They have a nineteen nighty eight scotch-"

Greg cut you off, banging his fist off the table with irritation, getting a few odd glances from people around him "Tell me or I'll be phoning Mycroft". 

"Ohh I'm so scared..." You sarcastically trailed off before blowing out a puff of smoke and taking a sip of wine "But I wouldn't if I were you, if you know what's good for you". 

"Then tell me why you're here," Greg asked before adding a pitiful "Please." 

"Are you _begging_ Mr Lestrade?" Your smile spread from ear to ear. He didn't reply and you let out a small sigh as your eyes gazed at the sea "You jeopardised my chance..." You gripped onto the stem of your wine glass so tight you thought it was going to snap "Two years of communication, wasted because of you!" You gritted out. 

Greg's eyes narrowed "What are you talking about?" 

"I can't tell you here, too many eyes and ears about," you discreetly passed him a key card and a slip of paper "See me later, around eight. The dock is just over there, there will be a boat waiting". 

Greg took the items from your fingers "Where am I going?" He asked, tucking away the keycard and piece of paper. 

You stood up and left money on the table for your drink "My hotel of course."


End file.
